


Good With Ropes

by sydwtr



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Choking (Fantasy), D/s (Fantasy), M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Rope Bondage, Self-Bondage, Threesome (Fantasy)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 15:14:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sydwtr/pseuds/sydwtr
Summary: He's always been good with ropes.





	Good With Ropes

He’s always been good with ropes.

Part of it is intuition, seeing where knots loop and hold, how to strengthen them, how to free them without having to cut them. Part of it is experimentation, trying different things and finding what works best.

This… is experimentation at its finest.

Fjord grips the rope in his teeth, pulls it taut and hisses in a breath around the worn fibers as the length of it slides and chafes against his bare skin. He flexes his wrists behind his back, bends forward and then backwards to test his range of motion, and sighs in satisfaction. It’s not as good as it would be if he had someone else to tie him up, but for entirely self-inflicted bondage, it’ll do.

His arms are carefully bound behind his back, loops around his wrists, elbows, and biceps now pulled tight. There’s a free end of the rope in his hand, ready to let him escape if need be. More ropes encircle his torso, decoration rather than binding. Two more lengths of rope have been tied off around his legs, binding his ankles to his upper thighs and forcing him to kneel. Ideally, he’d have one long rope for all of this, not four separate ones, but working alone it will have to do.

He leans back to the wall once he’s secured himself, breathes slow and even. Tying himself up, feeling the ropes slide across his skin, already has him aroused. He doesn’t want to rush this.

Fjord plans to enjoy this.

 _“Well, well, well, look at_ you _…” He whispers, threading fingers into short hair, tugging and making him look up. Fjord whines in the back of his throat, his eyes fluttering shut against the pain. “Tied up and left like a present, just for me?”_

_“Just… just for you,” he echoes, his breathing coming faster, his body straining against the binds._

_“And what sort of things can I do with something like this, huh?” The hand in his hair slides down, cups his jaw and turns his head in either direction. Forces his mouth open, touches the chipped, blunted tips of where his tusks should be._

_“Anything you want.” He takes the fingers into his mouth, sucks on them and swirls his tongue over them. When the hand leaves him he lets himself tip forward, rests his forehead against the man’s thigh. “I’m here to serve you, Captain.”_

Fjord makes a muffled noise against the rope between his teeth, feeling himself throb again. He can _hear_ that voice in his head if he focuses, the low, laughing quality of it. Amused but not mocking, indulgent but not disguised. Vandren knew what he wanted, what he needed, and provided. As long as he asked nicely.

He strains his hand down, teases a finger against his entrance and stretches to work it inside.

_“Please…” Shifting scenes, chest down on the floor, head turned back to look over his shoulder, still bound, still at his captain’s mercy. A finger just barely teasing against him, eyes on his flushed face. “Please, Captain…”_

_“You beg so pretty.” Deeper inside him, reaching, reaching, not quite touching yet. Eyes lock with his, holding him still despite the urge to wriggle, to thrust back onto that finger and complete the pleasure it’s almost giving him. “But pretty words don’t earn rewards.”_

_His back arches, his mouth falling open and panting. “I’ll do what you want, anything you want, just–just–” He chokes on the words as the finger presses to his prostate, a slow, deliberate rub against him before it withdraws._

_“I know you will.”_

Shuddering, dropping back against the wall and trying to ease the strain in his arms just slightly, Fjord looks around the room. There’s no gently swaying ship here, no Captain Vandren playing up his urge, his _need_ , to submit. There’s just him, alone in a room at the inn that anyone could walk into. That anyone could enter and see how he _really_ likes it. Tied up and used and–

Someone walking in.

Fjord’s eyes widen as he pushes off the wall, as he stretches his fingers out and finds the toy. He teases it against himself, lets his mind drift off into fantasy again as it slowly pushes in.

_“Just like that, that’s good, boy.” The praises, spoken low and sweet into his ear, almost cover the sound of footsteps outside the door. Almost._

_“Cap–” A hand clamps over his mouth, muffles his word as Vandren thrusts into him fully and groans against the side of his neck. His eyes are wide and unseeing with it, with the pleasure, the fullness, the mercy of his captain that he’s subjected himself to._

_Wide, unseeing, and staring straight at the door when it opens._

_“Wasn’t aware we’d picked up a whore in port, Cap’n.” The voice freezes Fjord’s blood in his veins, but Vandren only laughs against the side of his neck._

_“Says he wants to be a real sailor, Sabien. Thought I’d…” A hand tugs the rope binding his ankles to his thighs, spreads his legs apart so Sabien can see where Vandren has thrust into him, “show him the ropes.”_

The shitty pun is almost enough to ruin the fantasy for him, something between a snort of laughter and a groan of annoyance almost dropping the rope from between his teeth. Fjord spreads his legs like he imagines Vandren doing, sinks lower onto the girth of the toy and grinds himself into it with a whine. Oh, there it is…

_They’re not gentle, but he likes it that way. In a blink he’s on his back, Sabien knelt over his face with his cock heavy on Fjord’s lips, Vandren fucking him eagerly from between his bound, spread legs. His hands are trapped below him and tied tightly, his chest heaving against the thick ropes that criss cross it._

_He opens his mouth, tastes salty pre-cum before Sabien’s cock is entering him, sliding down his throat and choking off his air. A hand wraps around his neck, squeezes as the sailor begins to fuck him just as eagerly as his captain._

_Fjord can feel his own cock, neglected of touch, bobbing against his stomach. He can feel the pre leaking from it, leaving a warm, sticky trail against his skin with every thrust of Vandren’s hips. He wants to beg for it, to be touched, to allowed to cum, but Sabien seems intent on choking him almost to the point of passing out, on blurring the edges of his vision and letting his lungs ache for fresh air._

_He strains against the bonds and whines, his back arching as Vandren hilts inside his ass._

_“Take it, boy. Take all of it,” his captain grunts out the order, hips thrusting shallowly as he pumps cum into Fjord. He pulls back slowly, laughs low and quiet as his fingers press to the half-orc’s twitching hole. “You spill any and I’ll leave you like this up on the main deck for the rest of the men to use.”_

_He whines and whimpers around the cock in his mouth, tries to clench up and not let even a single drop out. If he’s good, if he’s good for his captain…_

_Sabien grunts over him, hand tightening down on his neck, squeezing as he cums down his throat. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t pull back, and slowly black spots filter into Fjord’s vision, taking over more and more. He’s on the verge of passing out when Sabien finally lets up, pulls away._

The rope slips from his teeth as he whines with desperation, the bindings around his arms loosening just enough for Fjord to actually move. He thrusts the toy deep into himself, rocks back onto it and grinds it against his prostate. Fuck, he’s close, he’s so close, he just wants to--

_“Captain, Captain please, can I--can I cum?” Sabien’s long gone, thank the gods, the door to Vandren’s quarters is closed tightly again and it’s just the two of them. Just his captain with two fingers in his used ass, slowly rocking them against his prostate and making his cock twitch._

_“Dunno, boy, have you earned it?”_

_He hasn’t spilled a drop, he wants to say. He took it like a good boy and didn’t spill it, even swallowed all of Sabien’s spend. He’s done everything his captain has asked, will do anything more._

_Words, however, don’t earn rewards. Fjord clenches up as well as he can around the fingers, thrusts his hips down with a groan. Show that he’s earned it. Show that he_ wants _it. He cries out as a third finger enters him, stretches him open wide and oh, oh no, he can_ feel _the slide of cum leaking out of him, along his crack to stain the sheets._

 _“Captain,_ please _\--” He chokes on the words as Vandren’s other hand wraps around his cock, squeezes down and lets his hips pump up into it. Fjord loses it, loses focus, loses his mind for more than a few seconds as his vision falls white and blind and he cums against his own stomach._

He comes to panting, chest down to the floor and ass up, his hand still desperately working the toy against himself. Every movement makes him twitch with oversensitivity, but it still takes effort to regain enough self-control to stop. Fjord groans, rolls over out of the mess of his spend and carefully pulls the toy out of himself. He tugs his arms free from their ropes, reaches down and loosens the bindings around his legs as well.

He needs to finish untying himself, clean up, get back to his group. He needs to… to…

Fjord presses his face to the rough wooden floor, closes his eyes and tries to imagine it swaying on the waves below him. His captain will take care of him. His captain will clean him up and bring him a glass of water and whisper about how he’s _such_ a good boy, _such_ a good fuck, how happy he is that Fjord’s on his ship.

Yeah, Captain Vandren will take care of him, just like always.

He can live in that fantasy for a little while longer.


End file.
